Cartographer
by Zelha
Summary: The Ottoman Empire was even greater than the Roman. Edges of the Piri Reis map look like they have been torn from a larger map. Was it ripped from a world map that had equally mysterious lands and creatures? Written for The Unsolved Mysteries Contest 2011. Winner of the Virgin Judge's Pick Award!


**The Unsolved Mysteries Contest**

Title: **Cartographer**

Pen name(s): Zelha

Beta's pen name(s): moxiemo

Virgin Writer (yes/no): In this fandom, yes.

Unsolved Mystery: The Piri Reis Map.

Characters: Eric Northman.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Southern Vampires Mysteries series and I seriously have no idea why the Piri Reis map is so accurate.

Proposed music: The entire Cartographer album by E. S. Posthumus. It's absolutely brilliant, seriously, not to mention cleverly ad-hoc.

-X-

Basra was as hot as he expected.

Part of the Ottoman Empire, the city state was struggling to look like a pitiful copy of the main capital of the Turks, Constantinople. Suleiman I, the current Sultan, was a cunning military man, who quickly followed his great-grandfather Mehmed II's steps in his quest for power. Mehmed, regarded as a religious fanatic and an avid follower of everything related to the Roman imperial system, didn't agree with most people's tastes and culture.

Plus, the fact that the short-sighted, now dead human had actually named himself as a _Kayser-i-Rûm_, was something to be heavily criticized. He wondered, ironically, what his Maker would say about such grand delusions. _Caesar Romanus_, indeed.

Yet the sprawling phenomenon he had observed in the fabled center of the _modern_ world had reached Basra, even before Constantinople had fallen to Turkish hands. It wasn't a particular culture shock, however, to observe how humans tended to flock toward centers of power. Rome, he though, was the perfect proof of the point.

Nonetheless Basra was as romanticized as the Sinbad the Sailor cycle of stories made it out to be. Sinbad was just a fictional name —just like Harun-Al-Rashid being nothing but an odd, yet brilliant fool — but most people repeated the epic tales of his voyages, his dealings with monsters, pirates and gruesome supernatural creatures as bedtime stories for both young and old.

Death, of course, was everywhere. The people of the Middle East had the annoying habit to swarm like a plague of locusts, no matter the endeavor they were pursuing. Beggars, thieves, assassins; many too sick to even stand, yet always ready to extend the hand in pleading, exaggerated gestures: everything mixed and melded together in a society that struggled to be just like the civilized Garden of Eden.

The year, 1526. The male vampire stood conspicuously in a sea of mid-to-short statured people, especially with the cloak that covered his obviously pale, foreign features.

This didn't matter to Eric the Norseman, though. He had seen many cities rise and fall, like candles of wax completely consumed. He had seen plenty of people stand in awe at his proud composure and handsome, well kept looks, only to be discarded as a passing meal while on a tiring, long journey.

Of course, even in this corner of the world, the supernatural creatures tended to group themselves, no matter how incredibly opposed their races were. As it stood, Weres, vampires and even fairies engaged in businesses to secure their presence among the swarming, overpopulated human race. Basra was the territory of a shifter that made the state his home when he realized that most of his people were safe as soon as they stuck to dogs as their preferred form. That way they could prowl the city with relative freedom, as well as hunt for some fun, human made or not.

The shifter, a male only known as Harun, maybe because he wanted to siphon a bit of the sympathy and fame the old Caliph had in his golden days of glory, granted safe passage and board to shape-shifters and vampires that strayed to his door.

Of course, his aid came with a steep price.

Greed was a characteristic shared by even the most ancient creatures of the world. The tall male with northern features had no stones to throw regarding rapacity, he being one of the most understanding of how satisfactory was to possess an item of great rarity and value.

He wasn't particularly comfortable with the long hours of sunlight that this latitude granted, but the rumors had reached him and that familiar sizzle had seized him. The hunger of knowledge, the particulars of how humans worked to advance in practicality and evolution, the feeling that always came when a brilliant mind discovered or solved a mystery of times old.

Harun, however, was as honorable, providing the customer had enough gold to shower over his big head. The situation had no other way to proceed, and so the tall Scandinavian vampire stalked his way towards the tan-colored, expansive house that the shifter called his sanctuary.

-X-

The streets were rapidly emptying; human concepts of nighttime meals, prayers and sexual intercourse before sleep never changed.

Paying for a space in a large basement that housed two more vampires – a Scot and an African that apparently were making joint plans to work their way through several Caliphs' harems, such was the life of those who had the time to do basically everything they wanted, except expose themselves – had Eric scowling with the insane amount of gold he had been relieved of. Harun was a businessman of honor, and even if the basement had several security measures for the vampires to lock themselves (one of them was actually a huge boulder placed in front of the stairway), it was still unsettling for him to be so exposed. One didn't reach five hundred plus years of undead age by allowing themselves to be so recklessly stashed, as he had to do as he made his way through the desert until he reached Baghdad. He could have paid for a vessel, but a nomad never goes to the sea if there was a land that could be crossed — and vampire speed enabled quick traveling over long distances.

Baghdad had been an acute disappointment regarding quality females, especially since he luckily left Damascus sated and well-fed, and so he left the city with a twenty-some body count. His investigation paid off, however, as he learned of the man that somehow developed a map that encompassed most exploration worthy of his attention. The Book of Navigation, devised by the _Kaptan-ı Derya_ Haci Muhiddin Piri oglu Haci Mehmed, celebrated Admiral of the Turk Navy, claimed to be the most comprehensive and precise world map that have never been outlined. Eric, being a nomad, and a man that sought knowledge no matter how useless it would be after obtaining it, but always following his whims, had perked up as he first learned of the existence of such thing. Sometimes his pragmatic sense demanded for him to flee a scenario, being rewarded afterwards with the news that the site he was at had been burnt to the ground or exposed by humans.

But something about this so-called Book made his hair stand on end. He had heard the rumors in Athens, of course, as he made his way through the famous cradle of ancient civilization and interacted with several vampires that met every new moon for the same reason. To find answers, to share them, and to construct their own history.

The Book of Navigation, or _Kitab-ı Bahriye_, was a treasure to anyone that wanted to attempt a jump across the seas to the other side of the world. The cartographer of the longest name in the world, shortened to Piri Reis to reflect both his name and rank at sea, had claimed to have several sources compiled in order to create this wondrous artifact, and this was what peaked the blond vampire's curiosity.

Eric had been trying to reach the New Continent as he felt that Europe was a pot of boiling egos and violent skirmishes that would end up in a massive-scale war. Indeed, many times humans had proven his prejudices, but somehow he felt that this was just the beginning. From the Dark Ages to the Renaissance Era, Europe had assumed itself to be the very center of the world, ignoring how other latitudes also had scientists, inventors, wise people that were as advanced as them.

America, though, after Christopher Columbus had the farfetched but brilliant idea to stump the Turks when they basically closed the Silk Road to China and India and explored new sea routes in that suicide mission that ended with him discovering a new continent— as if his former people hadn't done it first, he thought with a smirk as he rode the desert dunes and approached Basra with enough speed to shake the sand that clung to his hard skin as he dug himself out from the hole he had slept in.

He was now on a new continent that surely would see enough war and strife to actually rot the whole land with pestilence, but it was a good place to start, he thought.

The wish to leave the Old Continent, as it was called now thanks to that Italian-Spaniard man that had way too much luck in Eric's opinion, wasn't a whim, though. The Balkans had been a good place to live the last two hundred years, but something about the brewing of the Ottoman conquest led by Mehmed II prompted him to gather a few servants, his favorite human and plenty riches, left in several places and invested in sound businesses, thanks to the Lombard usurers he glamoured in France after the whole Jacques du Molay debacle.

All in all, the plan was long term. He had gone to the Kingdom of Spain only to find both Aragon and Castile bubbling with the prospect of unification through the Royal Wedding. Being a bystander of what could— and would— happen during the fusing of lands and Royal families, and seeing how the peasants fretted and worried over the whole situation was like repeating most events in Macedonia and Greece.

_History __always repeats itself_.

That sentence must have been written by a vampire hand, he mused as he secured the boulder and nodded to the Scottish vampire, a redheaded Highlander with a taste for fragrant, dark-skinned maidens, as he had crowed during the pre-dawn mandatory conversation between nomads. The African one, a young male of Zulu heritage, had already blacked out. Being the last to fall to day stupor was required for Eric, as the situation had variables he needed to ponder.

The Scot fell a few moments before him. All was well then, seeing as he always rose early in these latitudes, even if the sun was still shining outside. The perks of having a resilient heritage, warriors going viking, sailing, exploring and raiding basically everything that moved in the distant horizon. He went to his rest certain that he wasn't going to stay in Turkey for long.

-X-

Going through the motions of feeding was still mandatory for the Scot and the African ones, the Highlander being about a hundred years of undead age and the Zulu even younger. They were probably Maker and Child, but this wasn't interesting enough for his analytic brain. Slipping through the stairs already wearing the _thawb_ robe and giving a respectful nod to Harun, Eric wrapped his head with a _puşi_, the common headdress used by people of Arabic roots. Covering his face was a must, his paleness beyond any comparison to a human Caucasian skin was a dead giveaway, and these lands were filled with superstitious people that knew about _djinns_, _marids_, _ifrits_ and various other supernatural creatures.

Reflecting in his current situation – calling it a predicament would be more than farfetched because he had _chosen_ to search for Piri Reis' infamous map – Eric realized that he had played right into his usual strategy. Going to the center of the problem, having enough information to have the advantage and then, the blitzkrieg maneuver to obtain what he wanted.

He had played the game enough times to know when to use this technique and when not to. Getting inside the Ottoman Empire under the rule of Suleiman I was one thing – and it was a good thing he stayed far away from Mehmed's Sultanate while the human lived – but avoiding detection from wary humans that still secretly prayed to the desert gods was another. This time, the game had high stakes, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

Maybe he could blitz his way through a harem when it was time to leave, just to piss his board mates off, he thought with a mischievous smile.

Procuring a couple of warm necks in the _souq_ area had been easy enough, a few sips to tide him over while he performed his reconnaissance. He was smart not to go for the shrouded females; the woman could be discovered without her garments (and still trembling from the orgasm he could have given her) and lapidated on the spot. He couldn't afford such ruckus as he made his way through the rapidly dwindling market and humans retired to the comforts they could afford and allow within their idiosyncrasy and religious norms.

A couple more necks and he finally got what he was looking for. Piri Reis' address. It wasn't very common for a pirate to settle down in the hard land and to reinvent himself as a cartographer, but for Piri it worked. After he made _Kitab-ı Bahriye_ known, he had been busy with the Ottoman Navy, basically going viking just as his people had done seven hundred years ago. Replaying what Alexander the Great had done to the Persians was amusing enough, but having visited the remains of Babylon on one occasion and knowing that the Sultan intended to do with Asia and Europe, he couldn't help but admire Mehmed's insanity and how Suleiman followed his steps with mad determination.

Piri Reis actually lived near the makeshift harbor that connected Basra to the water stretch that formed from the Euphrates and Tigris rivers. He knew to appreciate that the river wasn't as polluted as the Seine river had been during Phillip the Fair's reign and subsequent cold war with the Knights Templar. Eric scoffed softly as he watched the cartographer's house from the shadows. There were several points of entry for someone like him... especially for someone with his special abilities.

Floating to the most ornate balcony and then waiting until a maid wandered by had been his first plan, but when he saw the young man sneaking around the white outer walls of the house, he knew he had his opportunity.

Glamour the man and making him forget he was accompanied by a tall, foreign man, and then allow him to follow with his passionate endeavor of fucking Piri Reis' oldest daughter after he invited him inside and stole himself to darkness had been child's play.

A true man of Islamic roots, Piri Reis owned a sprawling estate, in which he separated his concubines from his family's quarters. Eric smiled to himself as he floated over the intricately tiled hallways, he knew well how arrogant males with power could be, him being one of them. Having his lovers in the same house as his wife was something even Eric couldn't agree on, but he guessed there was something more to the man in question than his abilities to please six women.

An evil grin crossed his features as he reached the room that had Piri's manuscripts in navigation studies. Maybe this would be a monumental waste of time, but he certainly wasn't going back to the cold North without stealing a thing or two.

The book was... not a book, per se. It was a handful of manuscripts tied on the side together with leather cords. However, the illuminations were clear enough. Even Eric's eyes, so well-accustomed to the dark, were enraptured by such brilliant depictions of borders, shores, lands and descriptions of several species of flora and fauna.

He had expected the map being written in Turkish, so he would need Piri Reis himself for translations. He could communicate in several languages fairly well, but the written words of such a complicated tongue as the Turkish and the Arabic was something he hadn't had the time to learn. Maybe later.

For now, he was on a schedule. The young lovers were making enough noise by now with their rooting, so it was a matter of time to see if Piri would leave his bed in order to check on his daughter's virtue.

Luckily for the younglings, he intercepted the man as he crossed the internal courtyard to his daughter's rooms. They could keep fucking for a while longer.

Glamouring the human Turk admiral Piri was easy. As he led the man towards his navigational creation and ordered him to read it softly, he realized that the man was not only aware of supernatural existence, but also had planted several clues on the pages that alluded to the three main races.

This could be the very beginning of a massive catastrophe, he quickly concluded.

-X-

After learning how intently described Weres, shifters, vampires and even fairies had been in the left margin of the maps, Eric knew two things. One, that he wouldn't have a chance to fuck his way out of Piri's concubines' quarters, and two, that he would need to steal every single copy of the map if the supernatural races wanted their existence to remain concealed.

Adding a few orders to the Turk – making him forget his presence, compelling him to go back to bed and to wake and fuck his wife – and sending him away, he took a little more time to go through Piri's letters. Being unable to read Turkish and Arabic's runic-looking scripts annoyed him. Deciding to keep an eye on the property and to stay for another night at Harun's, Eric made his way through the heavily decorated courtyard and gardens, vaulting over the white outer walls with inhuman ease, all the while carrying the Book of Navigation under his Islamic traditional garb.

He would need to bide his time until he had more information about the whole situation.

It seemed that the blitzkrieg strategy wasn't going to be an option anymore.

-X-

Harun had waited until the three vampires had arrived a little while before dawn to address them. Unrest was brewing in Basra, and it was only a matter of time for the supernatural creatures to be discovered by the Sultan's men. The news of the recently conquered Hungarian city, Belgrade, and the Kingdom of Hungary now under Suleiman's Ottoman foot had elicited victorious chants all over the empire, and Harun feared this would only encourage people to riot in the name of Allah and engage in random acts of destruction.

Eric knew he was running out of time. The Book of Navigation was something they needed to hide and preserve. He wasn't keen on having Harun learning about his plans, but he didn't discard the idea of disclosing the true nature of the map. If the shifter wanted to remain among humans, he would understand the need for it to be seized and buried away.

Both his basement mates nodded and told the shifter they were going to leave the city after dark. Eric nodded, seemingly agreeing to their idea and making look as if he would do the same. Harun left them to prepare for the day, while the vampires retreated to their light-tight accommodations.

The tall Northerner worked on a scheme as he waited for the day to steal his senses. It was going to be a pain to retreat just after he got what he wanted, but something about the nature of the map rang an alarming bell in his mind. He would need to study it closely, maybe destroy it if need it be.

Truthfully, if would be a waste to destroy such a valuable piece, but sometimes it was the only way to ensure their survival. He knew this well; the state of Rome and the newly developed Bibliotheca Apostolica Vaticana had been ransacked by several vampires in order to steal the proof of their existence. Christian Catholic Apostolic Roman followers were as much fanatics as Islamic or Hebrew would be, but he was positive the Pope's men were as clueless as the rest of the human race. It was better this way.

Maybe... maybe he would repeat the Vatican adventure. It would be a shame to really have to destroy Piri Reis' map.

-X-

When he woke up, there was the usual yelling and chanting out in the streets. Daylight was still shining in the skies, so he had to struggle to remain awake. Soon it would be time for decisions, and something was going to be done if Piri Reis decided to draw another copy of the Book of Navigation.

He blinked, sitting up in his thin mattress. What if he had already make a copy of the _Kitab-ı Bahriye_?

What if he had, indeed?

Lighting up a candle and retrieving the bound parchment from his hiding place, he sat and in a corner and proceeded to recall everything Piri had told him, as he made him read every note carefully and clearly in order to translate everything to a more manageable language.

He would need to take notes of the placements of every supernatural description. And for that, he would need parchment and ink. Ergo, Harun would have to be brought up into the situation. He didn't want to, but...

Eric narrowed his eyes in contemplation. Then, he made his decision.

Dressing and gathering all his things, tying his golden mane up and getting the _puşi _on, creating an efficient bundle to carry his items while he traveled, all this was done as the day was chased away by nightfall. The Highlander and the Zulu were barely stirring when he moved the boulder and replaced it, striding upstairs to find Harun as the sun finally abandoned its perch in the sky.

-X-

The shifter opened the door of his private office with surprised eyes. It was obvious that he was startled of seeing him so soon after dark. The sun had barely set!

The tall, pale foreigner had eyes the color of the noon sky. And his long hair, colored like ripe wheat. His clean face spoke of nothing, and Harun feared. He was in front of one of the ancient ones. Why he hadn't realized this sooner? He would have banned him from his home!

Yet he could, still. His breathing calmed as both males took seat in front of a traditional hearth.

The vampire asked him about Piri Reis, strangely. The fierce _Kaptan-ı Derya_, or Sea Captain in Turkish, was something of a cherished personality within the walls of Basra. His navigational abilities had granted many victories to the empire, and his biggest creation for the Sultan-

Harun paused. It was obvious that the vampire wanted the _Kitab-ı Bahriye_, but the most complete copy of it was safe within the walls of the Sultan palace. Not even an ancient one would pass those defenses, surely.

And so he told him in all honesty, missing a dangerous, knowing glint in the Northerner's eyes as he leaned over the hearth and stuck an incense bar between the glowing coals.

His family and the two vampire guests found him in front of the hearth, mumbling nonsensical things about the Sultan while he stared at the aromatic, swirling incense smoke, the old shifter obviously glamoured to forget his conversation with the now disappeared Scandinavian.

Only time would tell if he had spilled a horrible secret.

-X-

Striding through deserted side streets and narrow alleys until he arrived to Piri Reis' abode, entering through his oldest daughter's balcony and glamouring her into silence. A few sips later, hunger forgotten and puncture marks on a young, supple thigh healed, he floated to Piri's office, knowing he would be there.

And by the look on the middle-aged _Kaptan-ı Derya_, Eric was positive the human had worked everything in his brilliant mind, despite his careful glamour.

The die was cast, and so he had to wait until Piri spoke of his demands. Maybe they would negotiate an agreement that suited both of them.

To Eric's mild surprise, the human pointed to a luxurious chair in front of him, clearly inviting him to sit.

"You must be the one that stole my Book," the man said in a low but perfect Greek. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

Piri was brave, indeed, Eric thought with a hidden smile, deciding to humor him. "Yes."

"You do not sound Greek," Piri prodded again as he heard the strange accent, his suspicious eyes going over the Arabic garment ensemble the tall Northerner had. "And no brother of our tribes is as big as you are."

Eric nodded, removing his headdress. His tied mane held the candlelight for a moment, making the human blink in surprise. Certainly, he wasn't Ottoman. And his face had nothing Greek. Macedonian, maybe?

The silence stretched, but it seemed Piri was just waiting for his visitor to speak.

"You are quite observant," Eric finally said. "I have your Book, yes. And I will return it, if you tell me who told you about the monsters."

Truly, for humans, everything and everyone else were monsters, so he had no qualms in using the derogatory term, even if deep inside offended himself.

Piri blinked and tried to remain calm, but his suddenly accelerated heartbeat alerted the vampire that he knew what he was talking about. It didn't matter how deeply accented his Greek was, he had always made himself clear, obviously.

"Do not lie," Eric warned. This seemed to have a deep effect on the brilliant Turkish Admiral, as his heart skipped a beat in shock. "I am just here for information."

"My teachers," Piri whispered, staring at the bright, clear blue eyes of the monster in front of him. "They always said that there were creatures that looked like humans..."

"But they were not," finished Eric for him. The Turk nodded, still in awe of such amazing, bright color in the man's eyes.

"I visited Spain, Genoa, Venice and Macedonia, and I have never seen someone like you," Piri mused, almost whispering to himself. "Where is your tribe?"

"North of Spain," he smiled, carefully concealing his fangs. "Far north, where the four seasons converge into one. Tell me, _Kaptan-ı Derya_, why do you place yourself in danger by unveiling the monsters' secrets?"

Piri Reis flinched. The man was addressing him by his title, and something told him that he needed to be forthcoming... or he would experience pain.

"My... my lord and Sultan, he likes stories of monsters and djinns. When I developed it, I knew I had to add notes to rouse his curiosity, or he would have rejected it. _Kanuni Sultan Süleyman_ embraced me when he accepted my _Kitab-ı Bahriye_, and welcomed me into his home."

Eric cocked an interested eyebrow. "In his Palace in Constantinople?"

Piri nodded. "My lord said I was to be regarded as part of his family, and that my family and I would always be welcomed into his midst."

The Norseman smiled then, and terror gripped the Turk as he saw the fangs that broke out of the perfect line of white teeth.

"Well then, my friend," the vampire crooned, his eyes glowing until they shone, "you are going to tell me where to find that copy of your Book, and you're going to welcome me into _your_ midst."

It was morning where his faithful servant found him asleep in his chair, and what it seemed to be clumps and remnants of parchment, glowing softly among the hearth coals.

-X-

The Great Friday Mosque was silent and dark when he approached it. It was a few hours until dawn, and he had to shelter in a safe place for the day before leaving the city for good.

He had observed the building before, as he made his way for the first time to Harun's sanctuary. It was obvious that it was one of the most revered buildings, with heavily decorated walls, well-manicured gardens and the topnotch architecture that had the Ottomans at the very top of the cultural pyramid nowadays – and also a sanctuary, so he was certain that the integrity of the building was as good as sacred for humans.

There was a niche in one of the towers, the minaret shining gold even under the moonlight. It was a good place, he concluded. It wasn't wise for him to seek shelter with Harun again, especially not after glamouring the shifter for the answers he sought.

The alcove was good, he conceded as he explored the building before going to Piri Reis, but there was something in the minaret that made him pause now and look twice. A trap door, leading to the interior of the minaret. Carefully shattering the rudimentary look, he found the space even more comfortable than Harun's basement floor, even if this particular refugee was filthy with dust.

Well, at least there were no rats to worry about.

Eric was certain he needed to flee up the Euphrates River until almost reaching its basin, then through the deserted landscapes of Anatolia to Ankara. From there, through Phrygia and Bithynia until reaching the sea, and then...

Then he would have some fun in Constantinople.

-X-

It took him almost three weeks to reach the City. He had visited and lived within its walls during the Roman ruling and Byzantine Empire, back when he was still following after his Maker's heels.

Constantinople was always regarded to be the wealthiest, most complex and insanely large of the city-states that man had created before. Even Rome, back in its glory days, had nothing to the shine that Constantinople had, even after enduring violent sieges and wars, merciless skirmishes and bloodbaths. It was most ironic that the Ottoman Empire had been the most gentle in its treatment of the City infrastructure.

Such a sprawling, colossal piece of civilization, he mused as he flew over the buildings.

And of course, the Imperial _Topkapı Sarayı_ was another piece of Ottoman architectonic wonder. The Palace was another massive state, with reddish-tanned walls and numerous pieces of Islamic structures. Mehmed II had been one busy man, adapting the city to his culture, and even passing as a magnanimous Sultan when he let others religions and idiosyncrasies live within the City's territory.

Now, having the invitation from Piri Reis and trusting this would be enough for him to enter the private and really-not-humble abode, he streaked the skies making a beeline to the Palace. He would seek refugee within its walls. A bold, utterly risky maneuver, but he needed to see if the Sultan had the Book. Now more than ever.

As he landed in the one of the courtyards— and realizing it was really easy to get lost in such a massive complex — he spied a young, curvy maid making her way back through the tiled pathways. Following her, he wound his arms through her waist, submitting her with the power in his gaze and sequestering her into her small quarters.

It had been easy to bite her neck, covering her fervent screams with his hand as he took her fiercely against the wall.

Primary needs sated and maid discarded, he found a large sycamore tree. Its roots grew far, deep and wide, he knew from experience, and it would suit his pressing needs. After an efficiently dug, deeply embedded between the roots hole, the Norseman vampire went to his rest knowing that this particular quest was about to reach its end.

He briefly wondered if he was going to end up meeting the Sultan in person.

-X-

Opening his eyes and feeling the warmth of the earth encompassing his entire body after a day of receiving the sun's rays was a pleasant feeling for Eric. Being dead after so long and having a cold body that sometimes was a liability, experiencing this kind of warmth was rare, as most the humans he might have considered trustworthy didn't appreciate his closeness, unless it was for the most basic of needs. So he didn't move, enjoying the warmth and knowing the sun was teetering on the edge of night.

As soon as the sun went to its rest, he dug himself out of the hole carefully and as silently as he could. The removal of the earth would alert the sentries, so it was mandatory for him to be as stealthy as inhumanly possible.

Luckily for the Norse vampire, it was a large tree in a secluded part of the courtyard. He had expected this, because the byzantine part that remained after Mehmed's conquest of the City provided him with a freedom inside the Palace. The maid from the night before was going to be his guide, having planted the normalcy of his presence and the feeling of need she would experience for him as soon as she laid eyes on his. He didn't have the time to stroll through the Palace, and the maid was the perfect way to investigate the whereabouts of both the Book – and the Sultan.

As if summoned, the maid walked out to the courtyard, smothering a gasp as her dark eyes found his and the glamoured orders kicked in within her mind. She smiled then, allowing him to embrace her as she searched for his lips with abandon.

A few whispers and a deep, sinful kiss later, Eric had her name and position in the royal domestic hierarchy. Masira was one of the scullery maids under the orders of the Sultan's Favorite, _Hürrem_ Roxelana. It was well known among the Ottomans how Roxelana captured the heart of Suleiman the Magnificent, and thus, Eric found himself mildly interested in seeing how enchanting a human could be to hold the affection of such fearsome leader of men. Until a new theory filtered through his brain...

Telling Masira to return to her Mistress, he followed her stealthily through vast, empty corridors filled with beautiful works of artistic beauty and gold. The Favorite's chambers were filled with shrouded and incense-scented women, all dedicated to serve and entertain her, and as soon as Masira opened the door, he knew that the Sultan had chosen her with cunning and wisdom.

He didn't try and enter the harem. It wasn't necessary for him to corroborate how beautiful this Roxelana woman was. Just a hint of her aroma was enough to find out the true nature of the Favorite, and seeing her would elicit both hunger and lust. He couldn't afford to be found with the corpse of the fairy if he wanted to get out of Constantinople in his much enjoyed undead state. Maybe she was a half-fairy; she had such a wonderful scent. And judging by her skin tone, she could be from the Earth fae variety.

Plus, it was unwise to let himself be seen by her, if she knew of his kind.

In the end, his practicality won and he vanished in the direction of Masira's quarters, glamouring a few eunuchs in his way. After investigating a bit more, he would enjoy making his dark-skinned maid cry out in passionate rapture.

-X-

The Sultan's quarters were across another courtyard. He stood in wait, watching the guards come and go in precise timing. A sudden spill of people from the hallway that led to the Favorite's chambers made him tense. If she was coming to call on her lover, he would need all his restraint not to fly down and abduct her in order to drain her as he fucked her to death.

In moments like these, it was a good thing he didn't breathe.

As he thought, the women had accompanied their Mistress to the Sultan's chambers. Hürrem Roxelana was covered with the traditional fabrics of the custom with a _yashmak_ veil, which covered the lower half of her face, but her eyes – hooded, astounding almond-shaped hazel eyes – moved with almost nervous scrutiny of every corner. She had felt his presence, it seemed.

Time to get moving.

A stroke of luck brought him back to Masira's quarters, and she had news for her handsome lover. The _Kitab-ı Bahriye_ was in a library nearby, and she was told that it was a very valuable gift from one of the bravest men of the Sultan. Maybe he would want to see it? Masira was eager to please her mysterious but beautiful man.

Following her once more, he found what he was looking for enclosed in a silver box. Raising an expectant, amused brow, he beckoned for Masira to open it for him and to place the exquisitely bound parchments to the table.

Everything was in place, as Piri Reis had told him. Not even one supernatural note was to be left in it.

After dismissing Masira to her quarters with a dark, decadent promise of false love, he proceeded to tear the parchments methodically and carefully. No need to be a savage with such a well-executed piece of brilliancy.

The ripped pieces of parchment were concealed among his _kaftan_ robes. Time was short if he wanted to feed and leave the _Topkapı Sarayı_ before dawn. He would keep the pieces and have them translated by someone he would trust with the secret. Probably another vampire, but he would need to reach Athens or Kiev before even thinking on discovering more secrets of Piri Reis' map.

Flattening himself against the ceiling as the guard came around on the usual patrolling, he decided to stall for a moment. After all, he needed to thank his little maid for all her help.

Arriving to her door a few minutes later, he let himself in as she ran to his arms. Smirking as she tugged at his clothes, he felt he needed a reprieve after the whole journey through Anatolia in his haste to reach the Book of Navigation.

Pushing the girl gently to the bed and kneeling on top of her, he decided to indulge in carnal pleasures for a while longer. After all, who would come looking for a lowly scullery maid?

It turned out that no one came, but her. With whimpers, shudders and exuberance.

-X-

Hagia Sophia.

The monumental mosque cut against the Constantinople landscape, as he flew towards it. It was a little while until dawn, so he decided to revisit that hiding-in-sacred-grounds trick of his once more. The building was actually large enough to have a few light-tight hiding places, but he wasn't sure of how the Ottoman had changed the layout since the last time he visited the City, a few decades before.

Being built as a Greek Patriarchal cathedral and adapted as a mosque by Mehmed II when he conquered the City, it was one of the largest buildings – beside the Imperial Palace, of course – and he was sure it would provide with a sufficient corner for his rest.

Finding an abandoned room in the highest corner, as he bypassed the Loge of the Empress and the Marble Door, he closed his eyes and his hands found the pieces of parchment.

'This was right,' he thought. 'This is for everyone's survival – mine especially.'

-X-

He woke up to a particular, delicious scent.

Eyes dilated and falling prey to the enchanting smell, the Norse vampire found himself in front of the Sultan's Favorite, Roxelana, as she held the scullery maid by her arm in a painful grip.

"Drink her," she ordered him. "I won't have liabilities in my Palace."

Her language was crisp and cold, the words well enunciated as was required of a proper Ottoman woman. Her face was luminous, betraying her supernatural lineage. But her eyes were as fierce as any warrior he had encountered.

Masira's eyes widened in terror as he let his fangs show. Roxelana pushed the maid to his arms, retreating warily to watch him carefully as he buried his face to Masira's neck and drank her life from her with a few hurried, painless gulps.

He laid the maid's body at his feet softly, silently thanking her for her help and her life. He would bury her later according to her custom. It wasn't her fault, to be just a pawn in a game of power.

Straightening, he looked at the Sultan's Favorite.

"You came to the Palace, I felt your presence," she told him in perfect Russian. "I thought you were there for me or my Lord."

Eric smirked. "As much as you might want to be killed by a vampire, fairy, I did not break into the _Topkapı_ for you, or the Sultan."

She appeared truly baffled. "Why?" she blurted out. "I've known of others-"

"It is of no consequence, and I am not others," he cut her off sharply. Fairies always thought they were at the top of the pyramid of power. Ridiculous. "Your husband had proof of our existence, and I had to remove it lest we were discovered by humans."

Roxelana's eyes narrowed in suspicion and offense. "I do not believe you."

"See it for yourself," he drew one of the notes of the map and extended his arm, showing the script to her. "What I thought to be just a precise map turned out to be a recipe for all supernatural creatures' destruction."

"_Here is where the men that turn to beast hail from. Defeat them with silver and the beast with leave the body to bury as a human_," she read from her spot a few yards away from him, her perfect eyesight betraying her as a fairy. He withdrew another piece.

She obliged, looking worried. "_The dark creatures of the night are known for their taste for blood. A tree branch through their hearts will make them ash, and silver will burn them with great pain_."

Then, a third one. "_Creatures of limitless beauty and charm, of divine essence and great power, can be destroyed by cold iron through their bodies_."

Putting his evidence away, he stared at the gorgeous female fairy. "You never realized your Sultan was keeping this information inside the gift from Piri Reis?"

She shook her head. "My Lord does not discuss empire affairs with me," her voice changed from worried to determined. "But not for long. I shall be with him every moment of his sovereignty from now on."

"I bid you goodbye, then," he answered, taking Masira's body in an efficient embrace. "I wish you luck with your endeavor. I advice you to be less alluring, though, and behave more like an Empress, if you want to become one."

The fairy seemed horribly offended, but wisely, kept her mouth shut. Pity.

"And another thing, Hürrem Roxelana," he added as he walked away from her. "You have no idea how many liabilities are in that Palace. You will do well in keeping vigilance."

It wasn't a mild threat. He was angry because he let himself fall into a trap, but luckily this was the end of the whole venture. He decided to return north, maybe to Kiev or Vienna. He would have time enough to have the notes translated.

And the fairy would have enough time to entrench herself further within the Sultan's influential power, but that would not be enough if she decided to out them all. She was well aware that her own head was in danger if humans knew of supernatural creatures.

That was why she let the tall, blond vampire walk away without calling her guards.

Defeated, perhaps, she concluded, but the war was never won without a final battle.

-X-

Time passed, inexorably so, proving him right on several accounts.

The Ottoman Empire survived and had been, in more ways, more successful than the Roman one. Suleiman the Magnificent passed on to History as one of the wisest Sultans of the Empire, and his Empress and Consort, Hürrem Roxelana, made him follow her to death a few years after she took her life. It wasn't clear how she died, though, but Eric knew she had to have attempted on her own life. Otherwise she would have outlived her own family, and thus making her nature as a half-fairy discovered.

The Book of Navigation passed down through the centuries as one of the most perfect maps ever developed, and Piri Reis went to his grave never knowing the brilliant piece he had created. Many scholars studied it closely, analyzing it with detail, never knowing how close they had been in discovering several supernatural races that lived among them in the whole world.

England turned out to be quite pleasant during the times he decided to create his child. The pest and poverty wasn't something that bothered him, after all the years he had roamed Europe, Africa and Asia, searching for whatever answer hit his inquisitive mood. With Pam at his side, they jumped on a vessel that would take them to the New Continent, the one that this Christopher Columbus discovered on a stroke of bewildering luck.

It wasn't until he had settled on that little corner of the United States, as the War of the Northern Aggression ended and the vampire kingdoms were delineated as the human states were by both forms of government, that he had the chance to think about the notes again. Rasul, one faithful vampire of Sophie-Anne's entourage, was as Arabic as the man he had encountered four hundred years ago, asking him about his magnificently drawn map. Rasul had obliged and translated all the photocopied notes, sending him an email with the translations.

He had been both right and wrong.

The parchments were hidden in a safe in Chicago, away from the debacle that took his queen, the trust that his lover had on vampires, and almost took both their lives and the ones of his people.

How greatly right and wrong he was now, as he printed Rasul's email out and deleting both message and address from his account. It wouldn't do for the Islamic vampire to be discovered and tracked down to Michigan because of a silly whim of his.

"Eric!"

He smiled. He had a visitor, one he anticipated with great excitement.

Exiting his office, he grinned at the sight of his blonde lover, barefoot and warm, smiling at him with eyes shining with the love she felt for him.

"Jump," he invited her, extending his arms.

Sookie ran to him, her feminine, delighted laughter ringing in his ears.

He couldn't wait to have her all for himself.

-X-

_- Tenna' ento lye omenta -_

-XxX-

Final Notes:

I'm aware that the term Viking is generally applied incorrectly for the Scandinavians, since it was the whole raiding-pillaging-conquering _activity_ that was called viking.

I'm also aware that I pulled several historical facts out of my own backside. I was just trying to establish a timeline for Eric's presence in Europe, since there's not much information on his undead life after he got released from his Maker.

That stone I threw about Lombard usurers is actually a nod to one of my favorite historical novel series, _The Accursed Kings_ by Maurice Druon. If you have read them, I'm certain you got the joke.

Djinn, Marid, Ifrit: demons of Arabic and Islamic folklore. Mainly the ifrit can be related to vampires, somehow.

Last but not least, I apologize in advance if my research of the Islam and Arab tales offended someone of the aforementioned heritage. I'm not a religious practitioner (being a happy Pagan and all that heavy metal) and so I tried to be as impartial as I could, but since Eric is the main character and knowing how his opinions of shape-shifters are, I'll have to say sorry on his behalf for being an arrogant ass, hahaha.

Having Wikipedia on my side helped a lot. Let's see if this actually gets attention from the readers. I have to thank Sarifina85 for being so inspiring with her sample story, even if mine is a bit similar to hers; I couldn't get around making this different. As it were, I feel this thing wrote itself.

And last but certainly not least, I'd like to thank profusely to moxiemo for being so helpful on such short notice. I thought I wasn't going to be able to meet the deadline! Thank you!


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